(no subject)
Title: Noon isn't Happy Hour (but who's counting?)
Rating: G
Characters: CJ, Ainsley
Disclaimer: Still not mine.
A/N: Written for ariestess. This is shorter than I'd like, and possibly less 'shippier than she would have liked, but...well, I did my best.
It’s the middle of the day, and she no longer has an office to go back to after lunch. (Just as well, because she didn’t eat lunch anyways.)
She ends up at this bar in Georgetown, one they used to go to all the time, and the bartender (bless him) doesn’t even blink when she asks for a double Scotch instead of her usual. First one’s on me, today, CJ, you look like you could use it, as he sets the heavy glass down and turns away to switch the tv from the news to the game.
It’s just an exhibition game, a little post-season goof-off, but a welcome distraction nonetheless. Too bad Collins is still out sick and the backup kid can’t throw a decent snap to save his life.
The food here’s almost better than the drinks, and she’s suddenly starving, so she orders without really looking at the menu and takes her drink to one of the back booths to wait.
Nearly finished her second drink, and a shadow falls at her elbow; she figures it’s the waitress, until the shadow wavers and slides in across from her, knees brushing her own. "Hey, CJ. Mind if I join you?"
CJ looks up, clearly surprised, but she covers it well. After all, she’s had years of practice. "Hi, Ainsley. Yeah, sit down. I’m just...well, eating lunch here since I can’t just grab something and take it back to my office. Since I no longer have an office. And I’m drinking, clearly."
"Clearly," Ainsley nods. The waitress arrives then, bearing loaded plates, and Ainsley can’t help but raise an eyebrow. "Either you’re hungrier than I’ve ever seen you, or else you knew I was coming."
"I was gonna invite Jackson over there to join me if you hadn’t shown up," CJ says, nodding toward the man sitting at a scarred wooden table several feet away. "You’d be surprised at the stories he could tell you."
"I don’t doubt it." There’s something familiar about him, but Ainsley isn’t surprised. In this town, everyone’s related by a matter of degrees. "Listen, CJ, you know you can’t stay here all afternoon. You should go back to-"
"Go back to what, work? Ainsley, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but as of about two hours ago, I am no longer employed. My office has been cleared out, my security access has been fully revoked, and as I got in my car to leave the parking lot, a guy in paint splattered coveralls was waiting to cover over my name on the little ‘Reserved for’ sign on my parking space."
Ainsley doesn’t speak for a minute. After a moment, she glances up; CJ’s looking intently at her glass, ice rattling as she turns the glass in her hands. "CJ, I just meant that if you’re planning on having more than a few drinks-which I completely understand, and will be more than happy to join you in doing, if you’ll allow me-then it would undoubtedly be more comfortable to go back to your place, not to mention the drinks would be cheaper."
CJ nods. "You would not be wrong. Plus, I wouldn’t be at risk of falling asleep face first into the spinach and artichoke dip; I don’t know about you, but I am exhausted; it feels like I haven’t slept in years."
Ainsley snags a couple of fries off CJ’s plate. "CJ, you’ve been helping President Bartlet run the country for the past eight years, of course you haven’t slept. Now, are you planning on finishing your Reuben, or are you just going to take it home and eat it tomorrow for breakfast?"
CJ smiles, and passes Ainsley the plate.
Rating: G
Characters: CJ, Ainsley
Disclaimer: Still not mine.
A/N: Written for ariestess. This is shorter than I'd like, and possibly less 'shippier than she would have liked, but...well, I did my best.
It’s the middle of the day, and she no longer has an office to go back to after lunch. (Just as well, because she didn’t eat lunch anyways.)
She ends up at this bar in Georgetown, one they used to go to all the time, and the bartender (bless him) doesn’t even blink when she asks for a double Scotch instead of her usual. First one’s on me, today, CJ, you look like you could use it, as he sets the heavy glass down and turns away to switch the tv from the news to the game.
It’s just an exhibition game, a little post-season goof-off, but a welcome distraction nonetheless. Too bad Collins is still out sick and the backup kid can’t throw a decent snap to save his life.
The food here’s almost better than the drinks, and she’s suddenly starving, so she orders without really looking at the menu and takes her drink to one of the back booths to wait.
Nearly finished her second drink, and a shadow falls at her elbow; she figures it’s the waitress, until the shadow wavers and slides in across from her, knees brushing her own. "Hey, CJ. Mind if I join you?"
CJ looks up, clearly surprised, but she covers it well. After all, she’s had years of practice. "Hi, Ainsley. Yeah, sit down. I’m just...well, eating lunch here since I can’t just grab something and take it back to my office. Since I no longer have an office. And I’m drinking, clearly."
"Clearly," Ainsley nods. The waitress arrives then, bearing loaded plates, and Ainsley can’t help but raise an eyebrow. "Either you’re hungrier than I’ve ever seen you, or else you knew I was coming."
"I was gonna invite Jackson over there to join me if you hadn’t shown up," CJ says, nodding toward the man sitting at a scarred wooden table several feet away. "You’d be surprised at the stories he could tell you."
"I don’t doubt it." There’s something familiar about him, but Ainsley isn’t surprised. In this town, everyone’s related by a matter of degrees. "Listen, CJ, you know you can’t stay here all afternoon. You should go back to-"
"Go back to what, work? Ainsley, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but as of about two hours ago, I am no longer employed. My office has been cleared out, my security access has been fully revoked, and as I got in my car to leave the parking lot, a guy in paint splattered coveralls was waiting to cover over my name on the little ‘Reserved for’ sign on my parking space."
Ainsley doesn’t speak for a minute. After a moment, she glances up; CJ’s looking intently at her glass, ice rattling as she turns the glass in her hands. "CJ, I just meant that if you’re planning on having more than a few drinks-which I completely understand, and will be more than happy to join you in doing, if you’ll allow me-then it would undoubtedly be more comfortable to go back to your place, not to mention the drinks would be cheaper."
CJ nods. "You would not be wrong. Plus, I wouldn’t be at risk of falling asleep face first into the spinach and artichoke dip; I don’t know about you, but I am exhausted; it feels like I haven’t slept in years."
Ainsley snags a couple of fries off CJ’s plate. "CJ, you’ve been helping President Bartlet run the country for the past eight years, of course you haven’t slept. Now, are you planning on finishing your Reuben, or are you just going to take it home and eat it tomorrow for breakfast?"
CJ smiles, and passes Ainsley the plate.